


Drizzle

by a_very_smol_frog



Series: Precipitation [1]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Angst, Break Up, I made myself sad, M/M, Rain, Sad, sorry - Freeform, there are a lot of similes too, too many metaphores
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-28
Updated: 2020-10-28
Packaged: 2021-03-08 18:48:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 895
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27251467
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/a_very_smol_frog/pseuds/a_very_smol_frog
Summary: It was raining the day Kiyoomi left.
Relationships: Miya Atsumu/Sakusa Kiyoomi
Series: Precipitation [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1992166
Comments: 13
Kudos: 32





	Drizzle

**Author's Note:**

> I apologize for the angst and the egregious amount of metaphors. 
> 
> I don't really have any excuse. I wanted to write a break up fic and this pairing just screams pain.

It was raining the day Kiyoomi left. Not a heavy downpour that rattled the windows and battered the roof. There was no wind ripping the branches of the old ginko tree in the backyard—whistling and howling with a righteous fury. 

No, it was a light drizzle, accompanied by a chill that sapped the warmth out of you the moment you stepped into the cool air, and steeped through every inch of skin and muscle until you felt it settle into your bones. The beds of your fingernails turned dark blue, and no matter how many blankets you piled on you just couldn’t seem to get warm. 

The world was washed in hues of grey, like the gentle rain had leached out the vibrancy of nature, and the brightness drowned in the murky puddles that littered the sidewalk. It wasn’t enough to soak you through your clothes, but it was just enough to blanket the grass in dew, and when you got home your sneakers and socks were disgustingly damp. Raindrops built up on the windows, growing in size until their weight dragged them down the smooth glass.

Atsumu had always loved the rain—the damp smell of the earth and the soothing pitter patter against the roof. Kiyoomi perpetually ran cold, but the rain turned his appendages into ice cubes, and left him scowling underneath his mask while he tried to bury himself deeper into his sweater. Atsumu was always waiting with a blanket fresh from the dryer when Kiyoomi walked through the front door after work. 

Now the rain just seemed to water his sorrow. He hoped Kiyoomi would stay warm. 

The weather was a lovely metaphor for the gradual decline of their relationship. There wasn’t one instance full of fury and lightening that caused them to break things off. It was a slow decay. At first it wasn’t even noticeable, but with every heartbeat the infection spread farther and deeper, and by the time they had noticed there was a problem, it was already terminal. 

It slowly snowballed from one bad night, to a silent day, until they were two strangers brushing shoulders in bed. There was no one to blame, nothing that could have prevented this inevitable disintegration. In spring the flowers blossom, but no one blames winter for the loss of their petals and the wilting of their stems. It is just what must be. The world continues to spin, and one day the sun will rise to the soft unfurling of new leaves. 

Spring couldn’t last forever, but Atsumu had gotten caught up in the heat of summer, and didn’t notice the gentle winds of autumn sweeping in until the chill of winter had already settled. He knew it was a cyclical pattern, but now as the house sat silent, the gentle click of the front door closing long gone, he stared out the window and wondered if the hollowness in his chest would ever fill, or if the numbness in his heart would ever thaw. 

He thought they would last. Together they had built something, a foundation for a dream they both strived for, or at least that's what he had believed once upon a time long ago. 

It was hard to let someone else in. Osamu had been allowed to see all the ugly cracks and jagged edges more out of necessity than desire. It was impossible to hide from someone who was by your side all hours of the day—someone who looked in the mirror and saw the same face reflecting back. 

Kiyoomi had been different though. At first they were like a tornado and a hurricane meeting on a sandy shore. They ripped up the ground from under each other's feet, and howled insults with every breath. It was chaos. It was a disaster. It was a calamity. But even the fiercest of storms must pass, and eventually the sky grows calm and the waves begin to settle. 

The start of their relationship was nothing like the end. It was thick tension, heated words, hungry lips, and bruising grips. They tumbled into each other and in the blink of an eye they were a tangled mess, no one could tell where blonde ended and black began, just a twisted knotted pile of strings. Bound so close together that they breathed the same air—emptying each other's lungs just to fill them up again.

Under the guise of silk, Kiyoomi had slipped past his defenses, and like a fool Atsumu had allowed the tender ribbon to dance over his skin, wrapping him up in a pretty pink bow. But when the ropes tightened it was too late, and Atsumu realized that even if the noose was wrapped in silk, the result was still a dead man hanging all the same. 

Now, the tattered threads of what once was and what could have been lay limp in Atsumu’s fingers, and he couldn’t help but wonder if he tried hard enough, could he tie them back together. 

The dull drizzle continued to dampen the air and fog the streets outside. Atsumu sat on the couch under a blanket that still held the faint heat from the dryer but he still felt oh so cold. 

It was raining the day Kiyoomi left. There were no leaks in the roof but Atsumu still felt raindrops slide down his cheeks.

**Author's Note:**

> Follow me on [Twitter](https://twitter.com/a_very_smolfrog) if you want to yell at me for this.


End file.
